by Shandi Boyes
The taxi driver tightens his grip on the steering wheel before nodding. His eyes are as wide as mine, but he has an edgy grin stretched across his face, like he appreciates the unexpected action I’ve forced into his life.
“Pull over here,” I request to the taxi driver when the SUV stops in front of a poorly lit nightclub.
After scanning my eyes around the less-than-stellar surroundings, I shift my dilated gaze to the cab driver. “Can you keep the meter running?”
Relief engulfs me when he nods without a moment of hesitation. After handing him a selection of bills from my purse to express my appreciation, I exit the cab and pace towards the club I saw Katie and the blond-haired man entering. My legs wobble with every step I take, but my poise is determined. As I walk past a group of men eyeing me with zeal, I give myself a mental pep talk that I'm stronger than I’ve ever been, and that I’ve got this. I hope.
I clutch my purse close to my chest when my goody-two-shoes outfit gains me the attention of a large beast of a man guarding the nightclub doors. He takes a few moments running his eyes over the length of my body before he lifts his hardhearted gaze to my massively dilated eyes. With a belligerent grin, he opens the cracked wooden door for me. I force a neutral expression onto my face before walking into the premises like I’ve always belonged here.
Clearly, I don’t belong here.
Considering my clothing has ten times more material than every scantily dressed woman mingling in the dingy club, I stand out like a sore thumb. I look like a kindergarten teacher walking into a biker’s bar.
I get eyeballed by people with every step I take, but I continue with my mission, not willing to wait until I’ve built up enough courage to tackle this task head on. It’s taken ten years to find Katie, so I can’t give up now.
My steps become shaky when a dark-haired man in a booth on my right lifts his chin, inviting me to join him. I shake my head before changing the course of my direction. My wobbly steps come to a dead halt when the strobe lighting shackled to the roof bounces off Katie’s vibrant hair.
Tucking my clutch under my arm, I rush towards the fiery redhead.
“Katie,” I call out, fighting hard to raise my voice above the horrid techno music booming out of the speakers.
When I reach the redhead, I grab her by the shoulder. Disappointment smashes into me when she turns around to face me. Her eyes are brown in color, and her face lacks Katie’s turned-up nose.
“Sorry,” I apologize to her annoyed expression.
When the unnamed redhead returns to dancing with her friends, I roam my eyes around the space, seeking any indication of which direction Katie went. I freeze when my eyes lock in on a figure moving quickly towards me.
Blood roars to my ears as the man whose foot I stomped on thirty minutes ago briskly strides towards me. His steps are unhindered as everyone surrounding him moves out of his path when they see him coming. His lips are set in a hard line, and his nostrils are flaring. My brain screams at me to run, but I instinctively loosen my muscles as my body prepares to assert the maneuvers Colt has been teaching me the past six weeks.
Just as the large brute grabs ahold of my forearm, a gun being fired shrills through the filled-to-capacity club. Panic overwhelms me as patrons of the club scramble, pushing and shoving past me as they scamper to get out of the firing zone. I stand frozen, unable to move out of fear. Flying fists I’ve learned to dodge. Bullets, though – I don’t stand a chance against them, and neither does my baby.
My fear switches to confusion when my eyes lock in on my attacker lying in the middle of the now isolated dance floor. His face is scrunched; his eyes are tightly shut. While muttering obscenities under his breath, he holds his right knee with both of his hands. From his squirming movements alone, I can tell he's in an immense amount of pain. The thump of my heart turns wild when I notice blood seeping between his interlocked fingers.
With my heart dropped out of my ribcage, I shift my eyes to the direction the smell of gunpowder is coming from. I gasp, beyond shocked when I spot the cab driver standing near the entrance of the club with a gun braced in front of his body. He lifts his right hand to his mouth and mumbles something into the sleeve of his white dress shirt before he houses his gun into a holster wrapped around his waist. My eyes grow wider with every stride he takes towards me.
“We need to leave before the authorities arrive.” He slings his arm around my shoulders and drags me toward the exit. Panic rages in my stomach me when I recognize his accent. He's Russian.
“Who are you with?”
My eyes frantically shift in all directions, soundlessly requesting aid from the people gawking at me with a snick of fear in their eyes. When my silent pleas fail to secure any assistance, I lift my eyes back to the man beside me.
“I have full sanction.” My words are hoarse, strangled by fear.
Acting like he can’t hear a word I'm speaking, the unnamed man ushers me to his taxi idling at the curb in front of the club. After opening the back passenger door, he places his hand on the top of my head and assists me inside. His eyes scan the premises as he slips behind the steering wheel and lurches the cab into the heavy flow of traffic.
My shocked state amplifies when I notice the taxi identification hanging on the glass partition doesn’t match the man driving the taxi. The picture resembles a man in his mid-sixties with a receding hairline and a round tummy. The man driving has slicked-back black hair, a fit body shape, and couldn’t be older than thirty.
“Who do you work for?”
When he fails to answer my question, I keep my eyes planted on the rearview mirror as I lift my shaky hand to the door handle. Upon discovering the door is locked, fear curls around my throat, but I refuse to succumb to it. I’ve spent the last ten years of my life on high alert, always trying to spot the bad guy in a crowd, but the fear I’ve lived with the past ten years is nothing compared to the broken look Katie’s eyes had when she glanced at me for a fleeting second. I need to do this for her. I must fight through my fear if I want any chance of finding her.
When the taxi pulls into a derelict building on the outskirts of town, the driver exits the vehicle and walks around my side of the car. Because he's too busy sheltering his eyes from the rapidly setting sun, he fails to notice me adjusting my position.
The instant he opens the back passenger door, I wildly kick out my leg, smashing my running shoe into his nose. When he stumbles backwards, I scamper across the seat and lurch out of the taxi. I complete the maneuver Colt has demonstrated to me time and time again when the unnamed man wraps his wrist around my ankle. Adrenaline surges through my veins when I execute the move to perfection, not only disarming myself from my attacker, but adding another kick to his already bruising face.
After scanning the area for a suitable location to hide, I charge towards the derelict building. It resembles a warehouse I’ve seen in many horror movies, but it's the only place that will shelter me while I work out my next move.
Gravel kicks up around my feet when I slide behind the rusted framework at the side of the warehouse to hide.
“Dammit!” I curse when I turn my eyes back to the taxi and notice my purse sitting in the back seat.
“There goes my chances of calling for help,” I mumble to myself.
When my assailant gingerly rises from the dirty ground he's writhing on, I scuttle further into the shadows. My heart leaps out of my chest when I crash into something firm—something that feels distinctively like a broad set of thighs.
Using the adrenaline pumping into my veins to my advantage, I leap to my feet and take off running for a cracked open door to the warehouse. I make it halfway across the leaf-riddled concrete before my wrist is seized and I’m yanked backwards. Spinning around, I execute an open palm to the nose technique before bracing myself in preparation to knee my attacker in the balls.
I inhale a sharp breath when I lift my eyes from the cracked concrete to my attacker. With the sun setting behind a low-h
anging cloud, most of my assailant’s face is hidden, but there's enough light illuminating from the warehouse for me to recognize one distinct feature: a pair of dark and beautifully tormented eyes.
“Enrique?” I query, my mind spiraling, unable to differentiate between the past and the present.
I maintain my braced approach, prepared to strike at any moment when the shadowed figure takes a step closer to me.
My brave façade of the past two and a half months crumbles when the deep rumble of “Kitten” sounds through my ears from a voice I immediately recognize.
Chapter 35
“Sorry,” I apologize for the fourth time the past thirty minutes when I catch the curious stare of the man I kicked in the face—twice!
He continues holding a wad of tissues to his bloody nose as he talks to Erik in the corner of a dingy office in the back of the warehouse. Ignoring the way every hair on my body is bristling, I move to stand next to Rico. He's shuffling through a range of surveillance photos of Katie displayed across a table. He’s barely spoken to me the past thirty minutes, but I’ve felt his heated gaze on me the entire time.
I’ve spent the past half an hour struggling to grasp the reality that the man in the taxi is an associate of the Popov entity and he has been tailing me for the past two months to ensure Vladimir’s request of full sanction was fulfilled. I don’t know if that means Rico is aware of the kiss Colt and I shared two weeks ago or not, but I’m not game to ask. And, in all honesty, it isn’t an appropriate time to question if my soon-to-be-ex-husband suffers from the same jealousy issues that plague me.
Even with my body acutely aware of every move Rico makes, and my brain begging for the chance to have some of its unanswered questions resolved, my focus must remain on Katie. I’ve waited for this opportunity for ten years, and I can’t risk another ten years passing because my heart yearns for an unobtainable man.
“It is her, isn’t it?” I ask Rico as my eyes roam over the large selection of photos of Katie.
When Rico and I reach for the same photo, our fingers connect. I gasp in a sharp breath when his meekest touch sends a surge of electricity up my arm. Even after two months apart, nothing has changed. The vibrancy between us is so intense, it's electrifying. I know Rico can feel it too. The stern mask he wears in front of others is still in place, but I witness the quickest flare of emotion spark his eyes from our slight touch. He appears just as helpless as I am in this volatile relationship.
After coughing to clear his throat, Rico lifts a surveillance image of Katie being clutched firmly by the blond man I saw pushing her into the SUV earlier before nodding. “We’ve been tracking Katie the past month, waiting for an appropriate time to get her out. With the contacts I have in this area, it’s an ideal time for my crew to move in.”
Some of the little nicks on my heart heal when he locks his beautifully tormented eyes with me. “I promised I'd get Katie back for you, Blaire. I’m going to keep my promise.”
I exhale a relieved breath, making the weight on my shoulders ten times lighter in an instant. “When can we do that?”
His heavy brow slants. “There's no we, Kitten. You're not a part of this team.”
I balk like I’ve been physically slapped. Although I could construe his statement as solely referring to Katie’s situation, the raging storm in his eyes doesn’t relay that.
“We. . .” Rico gestures his hand between Erik and himself, “will get Katie out tonight. You’re going home with Brent.”
“No!” I shout, my reply quick and resolute.
I cross my arms over my chest and lock my eyes with Rico. “Katie is my friend. I put her in this situation, so it’s my responsibility to bring her home.”
“No, it isn’t!” His loud voice bellows through the isolated warehouse, gaining him the attention of numerous members of his team gathered in the derelict space.
His throat works hard to swallow as he battles to contain his anger. I stare at him, shocked and muted. Just from looking in his eyes, I know the past two and a half months have been as torturous to him as they have been for me, but that doesn’t stop me from standing my ground. I’ve waited for this day for years, and I'm not backing away without a fight.
“Katie wouldn’t be in this situation if I hadn’t forced her to come with me. She didn’t want to go, Enrique, but I stupidly begged her to come.”
Rico drops his hand from running along the scruff on his chin. “Katie is in this predicament because I was looking at someone I shouldn’t have been looking at. If I’d just kept my mouth shut to Sergei’s taunt, none of this would have happened. Not to you and not to Katie. It isn’t your fault, Blaire. Nothing that happened that day was your fault.”
“We both take blame for what happened that day. Then shouldn’t we both have the chance to exonerate ourselves?”
He takes a step closer to me, surrounding me with his spicy scent. “I gave up everything I’ve ever wanted to save you from this lifestyle, and now you expect me to let you back in?”
I shake my head, sending the first lot of tears onto my cheeks. “No. I’m not asking you to let me back in. I’m just pleading for you to understand the guilt I harbor from that day. I feel responsible for what happened. This is the only way I’ll can ease the guilt I’ve been carrying the past ten years. It will give me the chance to move on.”
His eyes blaze into mine. “To move on from this? Or us?” he sneers before he has the chance to stop his callous words.
From the anger projected in his voice, I know he's aware of the kiss Colt and I shared, but now is not the time to discuss the stupid mistakes we’ve both made in our tumultuous relationship. Katie needs to remain our upmost priority.
I hold his vehement stare, striving to display I’ve matured a lot the past three months. I’m not the same Blaire he married within hours of meeting. I'm stronger and more determined.
When the silence becomes too great for me to ignore, I mumble, “I’m not the one who filed for divorce.” I cringe, loathing that my voice comes out with a quiver. “I would have never given up on you like you did me.” I keep my tone low, ensuring his crew won’t hear my painstaking confession.
“I did that for you,” Rico mutters. “Every terrible thing I’ve done the past three months, I did for you. But I never gave up on you. I saved you from a life of misery.”
An ache hits my chest when a cloud of pain filters over his beautiful eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the agony I’ve been harboring the past two and a half months.
“We made promises to each other the night we got married. You never gave me the chance to uphold my vows.”
Rico’s eyes bounce between mine for several heart-clutching seconds. They’re still the darkest I’ve seen, but I know the real Rico is hiding in there somewhere. A man can’t walk the earth without a soul, and his beautiful eyes show his soul is just as remarkable as his outer shell.
“I loved you enough to save you from my lifestyle,” he murmurs, his voice low and pained.
“And I love you enough I would have chosen to stay.” My voice cracks with a range of emotions. “But you never gave me the chance to prove it. You took away my right to choose who I can or cannot love.”
His stern mask slips, exposing a flare of emotion. Although his appearance makes him seem like an emotionally detached person, I know that isn’t true. He’s a deeply emotional man who would do anything to protect the people he loves.
I hold his agonized stare as I mutter, “Please don’t take this away from me as well, Enrique. I need closure for what happened to Katie. This will give me closure.”
The dark cloud in his eyes fades as he considers my plea. Regret. Hope. Worry. They all blaze through his beautifully tormented eyes as he stands across from me muted in silence. When he takes a step closer to me, Erik attempts to speak, but Rico raises his hand into the air, cutting him off. Anxiety spurs on my furious pulse. It isn’t just concern that he will deny my pleas that has my heart rate quickening; it's my bo
dy’s reaction to the closeness of its mate. Even in the most heart-strangling situation, his closeness still incites a carnal desire to run ravenously through me.
The past three months of despair disappear in an instant when he places his hand on the curve of my jaw and locks his glistening eyes with mine. It won’t matter if its endured two months of heartache or two years, his touch will always heal my maimed heart.
“Please, Enrique” I beg, returning his ardent stare.
His smoldering eyes stare into mine. “You're to stay in the car with Brent the entire time.”
I sigh in relief before issuing him my gratitude with a smile.
His spicy scent adds to the giddiness in my stomach when he tilts into my side and mutters, “But if you so much as touch your seatbelt latch, that spanking I gave you the last time we slept together will be the least of your worries.” His tone is deep and full of warning.
Ignoring the way his threat both scared and thrilled me, I nod. . . a little overeagerly.
A little after midnight Monday morning, I'm seated in the front passenger seat of a black Escalade three doors up from the house where they believe Katie is being held captive. Over the past several hours, Rico and Erik gave me a general rundown of the conditions Katie has been living under the past ten years.
I’m not going to lie, it was hard listening to all the details. After Katie was snatched from Ravenshoe ten years ago, she was to be placed on the black market. But when she caught the eye of one of the head honchos of the Petretti crew, he decided to keep Katie as his pet. In all honesty, I haven’t worked out yet if that was a good or bad thing for Katie.
The blond-haired man seems to have taken a fondness to Katie. He has kept her fed, clothed and safe the past ten years, but if he truly cared for Katie, wouldn’t he do everything in his power to get her out of his corrupt lifestyle as Rico had done for me?